The Nation Newspaper

Category: Korede Yishau

  • Before I die

    There is no need to be afraid of losing me soon. Absolutely no need because I do not plan to die any time soon. I have not even started living. Great heights lie ahead of me. So, Mr Death, keep away from my lane in God’s name!

    So, you may wonder what he is up to. This is just about a matter I look forward to seeing real change in my lifetime. Let me begin this way: Some days back I saw a video by my friend and colleague, Olatunji Ololade, on the sinking Adeniji Adele Estate on Lagos Island. Everything in the video caught my attention. But some plastic bags here and there brought to mind a problem we have been facing as a country, especially during the rainy season. As a child growing up in Orile-Agege, rain was good. Very good. We used to play in it and we sang to it: ‘Rain rain, go away’. Now an adult, I am not really sure of my feeling about rain, especially when it comes at a time when I need to go out and sort out important or urgent matters. But of more importance to me is how the rains expose us as a country of deficient leaders and complacent citizens.

    Things, like Chinua Achebe’s amazing novel title, have fallen apart with our drainage channels. Permit me to use my dear state, Lagos, for example. When it rains in Lagos now, our gutters are blocked, not by sand but by plastic bags and other plastic products. It was never like that. I cannot recollect seeing streets flooded with plastic waste after rains in the 80s. We have become reckless, very reckless with the way we dispose of plastic bags. And when the rains come, they are washed into the drainage and everywhere is flooded. We blame the government for blocked drainages but the bulk of the fault should be placed on our abuse of plastic bags. Government is not blameless; its fault is that it does not instil discipline in its citizens by catching and punishing offenders. Aside from punishing offenders, we need to emulate the policies elsewhere.

    In advanced countries and some developing ones, the danger of plastic bags is being tamed. The first time I noticed this was on a trip to the United Kingdom. I bought an item in a store and I was asked if I needed a plastic bag to wrap it. I wondered why I was being asked when it was obvious that I should be given a plastic bag as a right. It dawned on me that I was asked the question because a new law just came into effect mandating stores to charge for plastic bags. When I saw that I was to pay five pence, I declined, offering to carry the item without the bag. After that, I started going with a plastic bag anytime I went for shopping. I was saving money, but the country was being saved and the environment was the better for it.

    To show its seriousness to save the environment, by January, the UK government may make all retailers double the current five pence fee for plastic carrier bags. The government is obviously encouraged to take this line of action after statistics show that the current plan has helped the environment. Before the policy was introduced in 2015, the use of plastic bags in supermarkets in England was out of control. Over 7.6 billion carrier bags were given to customers in 2014. The introduction of the policy, researches have shown, led to retailers taking 15 billion carrier bags out of circulation. Tesco, Asda, Sainsbury’s, Morrisons, Waitrose, Marks & Spencer and The Co-op, which are the UK’s seven biggest supermarkets, recorded 86 per cent drop in plastic bag sales after the policy was introduced. This, said statisticians, means an “equivalent of one person using around 140 plastic bags each year before the charge, to just 19 bags in 2017-18”.

    A report by the Centre for Environment, Fisheries, and Aquaculture Science (Cefas) shows that plastic bag marine litter dropped by half. All thanks to the charge. Interestingly, small and medium shops which still give out bags free of charge still give over 3.6 billion plastic bags to their customers every year. The new plan intends to force small and medium shops to implement the ten pence charge. This will be more reduction in waste and money for local, national and environmental charities.

    By 2022, a tax will also be introduced on plastic packaging without at least 30 per cent recycled content. I must also point out that the European Union, by 2021, will ban plastic straws, cotton swabs, disposable plastic plates and cutlery. These are the stuffs we see in our drainage channels anytime it rains. They block the channels and contribute greatly to flooding the roads with water and waste.

    According to a report in the standard.co.uk, about 55 countries have introduced a complete ban on single-use plastic carrier bags. The report said: “Bangladesh became the first government to ban the bags as early as 2002. Since then, dozens of countries followed suit, with African nations leading the way including Eritrea (2005), Tanzania (2006), Uganda (2007) and Rwanda (2008). Since 2010, European countries have also begun to introduce full bans. Italy passed legislation scrapping all plastic bags in 2011, with countries like France and Monaco following in 2016. Macedonia also introduced a full ban on carrier bags in 2013.”

    Other countries also charge for single-use plastic carrier bags. They include Denmark, Cyprus, Germany and Poland. “Across the pond in the USA, regional bans are in force across the country, including in the state of California, but several districts such as Washington D.C are operating a charge on plastic carrier bags,” said the report.

    I look forward to us joining the sane world; enough of the craziness around here.

    My final take: We need to follow the world in reducing waste by making people pay for plastic bags in stores. We have too many plastic bags, which we call nylons in our homes, which we do not need and end up throwing away. Many of them and the disposable plates we use at our uncountable owambes end up in the drainage channels and help flood our streets.

  • Patsy and Travelers

    It will always ring a bell: “Every departure is a death, every return a rebirth.” Deep words from Travelers, a novel by our own Helon Habila, released on Tuesday in the United States. This line and others in Travelers and Patsy by Jamaica-born Nicole Dennis-Benn bring to mind the concept of home.

    Yes, home; that four-letter word. It means so much that the Yoruba have a proverb which translates to “home is the place of rest after a hard work at the farm”. So, what happens when you have a home that you cannot return to? Then you are forced to adopt a new home and find succour in “home away from home”. These two books, though different, but at their core is the concept of home in the context of people who have homes they cannot return to.

    Reading these novels set in Jamaica, America and Germany got me thinking about Nigerians who have homes they cannot return to. Go to Internally Displaced Persons (IDPs) camps scattered all over the North and you will begin to understand my point.

    Patsy, Dennis-Benn’s second novel, is the story of Patricia whose desire to leave Jamaica for New York, United States, towers above all desires, including being with her daughter. She eventually achieves her dream but within hours of being in New York, signs that things will not work out the way she expects start showing. First, her best friend, who encourages her to relocate, shows up at the airport with a husband Patsy is unaware of. More surprises, such as the fact that she has a son, soon jump at her. She confronts this friend whom she assumed she knew but has turned someone else in New York.

    In the basement, where she is condemned to and advised on when to venture to the main apartment or not, she is forced to take a stock of her life. But a bigger shock soon comes in after her friend’s husband insists she leaves the house after catching the two of them in uncompromising condition.

    From then on, she moves from apartment to apartment, petty jobs to petty jobs, and the more she lives in America, the more her dreams seem far away from being realised. Meanwhile, her visa has expired and she has become an ‘illegal’, unable to return home and making not much progress abroad. Her daughter battles the effects of life without her mother, turns to playing football with boys and rebels against her stepmother despite all the love she shows her.

    On the surface, Patsy looks like the story of Patricia, her daughter, her friend and her mother, but on a larger scale, it is the story of Jamaica and how poor leadership and corruption have made its people see the America embassy as the gateway to heaven and will do anything to enter it!

    Habila’s Travelers, on the other hand, is largely about people forced to be on the run by circumstances beyond their control. Set in Berlin, Germany, it follows the experiences of African refugees. Habila plunges the reader into a maze of lives in distress away from their homes and unable to find rest abroad. Painfully, they have homes they cannot return to.

    The story is told by a nameless narrator, who is a Nigerian living in the United States with his American wife, Gina, a portrait artist. Their marriage is strained, but when Gina wins a fellowship that requires her to move to Berlin, the narrator joins her. It is seen as a last-minute effort to rescue the marriage. But Europe turns him into a stranger and his marriage provides no succour as Gina becomes “more oblivious of what was happening around her, her gaze focused only on her painting.”

    “We used to be so happy,” she said. This was when the narrator declares that he has decided to stay back in Berlin after the end of Gina’s fellowship. The beginning of the end of their union, which started with Gina’s miscarriage, refuses the healing hand Gina assumed Berlin would provide.

    Mark, a transgender Malawian film student, who escaped to Berlin to pursue his dream, becomes the narrator’s saving grace until the unexpected happens. The narrator’s loneliness assumes a new meaning when his new friend is detained for being in Germany on an expired visa. This ugly side of migration rattles the narrator, who thereafter moves around Berlin, where he comes into contact with African migrants experiencing the ugly sides of being away from home. Mark, who the narrator shockingly finds out was a girl named Mary before bidding his old life bye, later falls from a height and dies. His favourite line is ‘even in Berlin I miss Berlin’.

    Another traveller we encounter is Manu, a Libyan who fled to Berlin with his daughter while they await his wife’s arrival. Manu, a medical doctor in Libya before the fall of Gaddafi, becomes a bouncer in a night club in Berlin, and every Sunday visits a tourist centre in Berlin, where he and his wife had agreed to meet in case they ever got separated. But she never shows up. And ne never recovers!

    We also meet Portia, the daughter of a Zambian writer, chasing the ghosts of her father and brother in Switzerland and England. Using these characters, Habila (who has three other novels to his name) provides readers a guide to the African Diaspora.

    Travelers captures our global political moment and the downside of living in exile. The politics of asylum, freedom and Diaspora are laid bare in this important work that can only be the product of one with the heart of an artist.

    Patsy also scores high in laying bare the weirdness of migration. Its language is simple but not simplistic. Dennis-Benn’s use of the tricky present tense to narrate the bulk of the story is worthy of commendation because she does it so well that one can say no detail is lost.

    Habila’s fourth novel, which was released in the United States on Tuesday, and Dennis-Benn’s released on June 4, are reminders that the developing world needs to develop fast. Reading Patsy (while away from home) reminds me so much of Lagos and Nigeria. Travelers also evokes similar memories. In the case of Travelers, conflict is the reason why Manu’s life is shattered. In Patsy, we see the effects of corruption on Jamaica. In both works, we see our failed states, our deepest fears and lives torn apart by crises caused by men whose greed and ego are beyond description.

    My final take: Nigeria, Africa and the rest of the developing world must find a way to make their people feel at home and not seek emergency homes in better climes, which never truly accept them. We must tell our leaders the truth, and the truth is that they have failed us and are continuing to fail us and forcing us to seek refuge among people who, at best, see us as parasites or labourers without choice!

  • Nigeria’s Popoola develops app for Britons, Nigerians to rate their leaders

    Nigeria’s Popoola develops app for Britons, Nigerians to rate their leaders Rate Your Leader is a fast-growing democracy app which allows voters in Nigeria and the United Kingdom to communicate with their elected representatives at the touch of a button. OLUKOREDE YISHAU examines this app developed by Nigeria’s Joel Oyeyinka Popoola, who grew up in Gbongan, Osun State

     

    In a few days, Theresa May’s era as the British Prime Minister will come to an end. Nominations for the Conservative leadership will close on June 10 and the first ballot will hold the day after. Through a series of ballots, aspirants will be eliminated until a final shortlist of two is chosen by party members.

    The Members of Parliament who announced their candidacy are James Cleverley, Michael Gove, Sam Gyimah, Matt Hancock, Mark Harper, Jeremy Hunt, Sajid Javid, Boris Johnson, Andrea Leadsom, Kit Malthouse, Esther McVey, Dominic Raab and Rory Stewart.

    Cleverley and Malthouse have since pulled out of the race. The aspirants, who have shown interest in replacing May, have signed up to a democracy app allowing voters to contact them directly from their phone or tablet, a development which has led to the race being dubbed “the most accessible election ever”. The app, known as Rate Your Leader, is a fast-growing democracy app which allows voters in Nigeria and the United Kingdom to communicate with their elected representatives.

    The app designed by Joel Popoola, who had his childhood in Gbogan in Osun State, is programmed in such a way that communication on it cannot be abusive. The app can detect abuse and delete it. Day in, day out, more and more Members of Parliament, councillors, police and crime Commissioners are taking advantage of the app to communicate with their constituents.

    The Rate Your Leader app is available for free from the Apple and Google marketplaces. With the platform, politicians can also engage with registered voters in their constituencies. Popoola, who is Rate Your Leader founder and Tyne and Wear tech entrepreneur, said: “Whoever wins the race to become the next Tory leader, and the next Prime Minister, has a real job on his hands reaching out to the electorate. Every one of the 12 current candidates is clearly taking that very seriously by putting themselves in the position to enter into a dialogue with voters on a one-on-one level.

    “The fact that voters can use the Rate Your Leader app to do this means that this contest is arguably already the most accessible election ever.

    “There is a wide and diverse field of candidates, but what unites them is the claim that they can reach out to parts of the electorate not currently voting Conservative. With a clear commitment to digital engagement, they are at least backing up that claim.”

    Popoola’s motivation for developing the app is captured in these words: “Across the world, democracy is changing forever, and Nigeria is no different. Voters expect to have more influence on politics than our traditional representative democracy can necessarily accommodate.

    As a result, voters are either defecting to anti-establishment parties or becoming more and more attracted by direct action.

    “People’s political priorities and motivations are becoming more and more disparate and unpredictable, and politicians are clearly failing to ascertain what voters really want.” He believes the app will bridge the gap between politicians and the electorate.

    Popoola had his primary and secondary education at the St Paul’s Anglican Primary School and Gbongan Community High School. A British citizen of Nigerian descent, Popoola studied Accounting with a background in Banking, Finance and Insurance. He also holds a Masters degree holder in Managerial Psychology from the University of Ibadan.

    He said: “Around the world, from Trump supporters in America to Gillets Jaunes in France to Brexit supporters in the UK, people are feeling more and more out of touch with politics, and it’s only a matter of time before a similar apathy descends on Nigeria.

    One in three Nigerians uses Facebook, and technology offers the opportunity to connect politicians and people like never before. That dichotomy is driven by social media giants being unwilling, unable or both to effectively crack down on trolls and bots.”

    A citation of him by an organisation, which declared him Boss of the Week gives an insight into his person: “Here is a man whose penchant for knowledge in an ever competitive world propelled him into the IT world where he has practised professional software testing consultancy spanning a period of four uninterrupted and highly productive and eventful years.

    “His earliest career path saw him traversing through two superior financial institutions based in his home country, Nigeria; they are United Bank for Africa (UBA) and the former Intercontinental Bank, which is today a part of the ever-growing Access Bank. These institutions sharpened, shaped and honed his professional skills and grounded him in distinguishing Leadership roles with excellent service delivery in Banking Operations, Customer Care Management, Branch Start-up and Management, Relationship Management, Business Development, Risk Management and Information Technology.

    “Passionate about delivering exceptional services and standards within the un-compromised confines of policies and procedures in the achievement of high-demanding objectives and corporate targets, Popoola who lives permanently in England, has not forgotten that charity begins at home. He brings this phenomenon to life with his constant thoughts directed at events on the home front, especially the forthcoming general elections which is just a few weeks away.

    His desire to see the execution of the best of elections led to the creation of the Nigeria Democracy App, Rate Your Leader. This is a technology dedicated to correcting the inability and unwillingness of social media giants to crack down on bots and trolls, which inadvertently has had an adverse effect on their users, politicians and even global democracy.

    “Popoola’s consistency has over the years engendered his capabilities to not only execute his deliverables but to also exceed expectations in doing so. He is such a force to reckon with. “Probably proper to refer to him as a man who saw tomorrow, Popoola is using his technology to connect politicians with verified local electors using abuse-proof technology aims to ‘Take back democracy with technology.

    “Popoola’s ingenuity sets the standard in celebrating knowledge based on proven integrity towards rekindling an abuse-proof digital platform which connects voters and politicians. He has personally urged the electorate to embrace new technology to ‘take back democracy’ or risk the downside.

    “The Rate Your Leader app is a global online platform which helps politicians engage only with voters in their constituencies in an abuse-proof way and allows elected leaders to truly understand what matters most to the people who elect them while allowing local people to identify and contact their representatives at the touch of a button, direct from their phones or tablets. That is ingenuity at the highest level.

    “Consequently, as many that have lost faith in their representatives have just got their faith rekindled. The tech-preneur quoted research from YouGov, an international Internet-based market research and data analytics firm, headquartered in the UK, with operations across the world, which declared that only 18% of voters trust politicians to ‘do what is right’, with 66% believing their elected officials put personal interest before communal interest.

    “This decline in faith in traditional politics, he said, has coincided with the election of explicitly anti-establishment leaders in the United States, Brazil, Mexico, the Philippines and India, the result of the Brexit referendum the UK and in the case of the Gillets Jaunes, Paris, direct action on the streets. The Rate Your Leader has practically eased the distrust, thanks to the foresightedness of Mr Popoola.

    “Popoola has set a personal and professional value-chain of goals and has a proven track record of adding value and raising the bar through the unfettered contribution of significant milestones to business performance.

    “The achiever is a member of Tech London Advocates, and an Advance Member of The Institutes of Directors, and is totally, passionately and irrevocably committed to working with positive-minded people in creating a better world.

    “Mr Popoola is married to Dr Olusola Popoola nee Awomolo, and they are blessed with two lovely children Praise and Ife.” On the importance of the app, Popoola said: “Since Twitter, Facebook and others are not stepping up to the plate on this, we clearly need new democratic tech which allows genuine residents to interact with their elected officials in an abuse-proof way. Our Rate Your Leader technology can do it, so why can’t the tech giants? The technology allows elected leaders to truly understand what matters most to the people who elect them while allowing local people to identify and contact their representatives at the touch of a button, direct from their phones or tablets. The app, which also allows people to check if they are registered to vote and identify their elected representatives at the touch of a button, is free to download from the App store and other app marketplaces.

    “Democracy is now digital, which means social media companies have a responsibility to provide a safe space for both politicians and our democracy and they are evidently failing on both fronts. As a result, a troubling amount of our political debate in other parts of the world is dominated by Russian trolls and computerised bots while actual politicians are forced off social media by 21st-century pitchfork-wielding mobs. That cannot be right.” The app is programmed to also work in Nigeria and it will allow Nigerians to communicate with their leaders in such a way that abuse is eliminated.

     

  • TSA and Next Level

    For the next few weeks, I am going to take this space to the next level by speaking above whispers on issues that I feel will help make this dispensation better and in the interest of Nigerians. I will x-ray policies and decisions from the last dispensation and give my take on what should be done about them in this dispensation.

    The springboard for me would have been the presidential inauguration speech.  Two days ago, President Muhammadu Buhari took the oath of office at the Eagle Square in Abuja. The ceremony began necessary having defeated Peoples Democratic Party (PDP) candidate and ex-Vice President Atiku Abubakar. Not a few attribute his success at the poll to his cult following in key areas of the country.

    At the inauguration, Nigerians looked forward to an inauguration speech in which the president would spell out how he would arrest the insecurity in the land, how the biting poverty will be addressed and how his strict monetary policies will make things better for the people. But for reasons best known to the president, he refused to give an inauguration speech and thus dashed the hope of those expecting him to give a direction of what to expect in the next four years.

    In the absence of an inaugural speech, I am turning to what perhaps is the ‘biggest’ achievement of the last dispensation: the full implementation of the Treasury Single Account (TSA) policy. The full implementation began in September 2015. This policy is an International Monetary Fund (IMF)-recommended cash management policy, which mandates all governmental funds to be managed in a single bank account or at the most a set of linked accounts.

    The Dr Goodluck Jonathan administration had carried out a pilot scheme. The administration directed Ministries, Departments and Agencies (MDAs) to close all their accounts in commercial banks. The money was thereafter moved into a single account at the Central Bank of Nigeria (CBN). For the full implementation, on August 7, 2015, the President compelled MDAs to close their accounts with commercial banks and transfer their balances to the CBN on or before September 15 of that year. By this action, he gave life to this policy launched in 2012 but left unimplemented. This resulted in the consolidation of over 20,000 bank accounts. An average of N4.7 billion is saved monthly in banking charges.

    The era of some MDAs having idle cash in banks and still borrowed exorbitantly from banks is gone for good.

    To drive this process, the Federal Government chose Remita, a payment channel run by SystemSpecs. But, as typical of anti-change elements, some banks refused to cooperate with the payment channel. However, with a Federal Government hell-bent on implementing the policy, the disgruntled banks were cut to size.

    So far, the national treasury has been saved over N8.9 trillion that would have gone as bank charges. Despite this, not a few still see the TSA as one of the ruses of the Buhari administration. If only they can ask the banks to give details of what they are losing to the TSA!

    Good as the TSA is, a number of huge revenue generating MDAs are not fully complying with the policy. They have kept seeking total exemption from the policy, which I believe should never be granted.

    The success of the TSA has attracted international and continental attention. A team from the Republic of the Gambia, which came to Nigeria for two weeks to understudy the process, just departed. Soon, The Gambia will replicate the scheme. The country’s Accountant-General and head of the delegation, Momodou Lamin Bah, said they came to Nigeria after the IMF cited Nigeria as a good example worth emulating.

    During the visit, the team held discussion with major stakeholders, including SystemSpecs, the 27-year-old Nigerian firm, which in 2011 got the nod to drive the process. The bidding process involved the Nigeria Interbank Settlement System (NIBSS) and a Swedish technology company, known as CMA. I must point out that the Jonathan administration was sceptical of SystemSpecs and was bent on awarding the contract to CMA. It soon dawned on the administration that the CMA was not ready.  NIBSS, which is owned by the CBN, was its next choice. It did not take long before it became clear to the administration that SystemSpecs should be saddled with the responsibility.

    As with all new things, there have been a number of controversies around the TSA and SystemSpecs. A senator accused SystemSpecs of making billions of naira daily from its operation of the policy. Last year, the Federal Government announced its decision to renounce payment to SystemSpecs for driving the TSA. SystemSpecs was the subject of attacks. For me, if the Federal Government sees the needs to renegotiate with Systems Specs, all well and good. That is in line with due process. An indigenous company that has driven a process applauded home and abroad deserves fairness. It should not be given undue advantage, but it should not be treated unfairly for pecuniary reasons, such as refusal to grease the palms of corrupt government officials or lawbreakers masquerading as lawmakers.

    Clearly, the TSA deserves to be transformed into a national project. It should be institutionalised and taken beyond the office of the Accountant General of the Federation and the TSA Director. I think the nation will benefit from this given the fact that this is almost like the only policy of this administration with global applause, which has attracted The Gambia, with the Kenyans and Ethiopians said to be on the way to understudy it.

    My final take: The Federal Government should ensure that all MDAs and government ventures comply with the TSA for the growth and development of the country. Anything short of this is a disservice to this amazing policy, which has helped check graft in inestimable ways.

    What will I turn to next week? Our love for all things foreign and how through this we are all killing our economy will receive due attention. Until then, I pray that this dispensation will not be anything like the last one. We deserve better security, better electricity, better education sector, better labour relations, and better health sector and better everything! We must truly have a real Next Level, not just as a slogan.

  • Wanted! The good Nigerian

    It will be good to listen to a corporate affairs executive give his candid view of an average Nigerian journalist. You are likely to hear him whine that the journalist is always troubling him for one financial aid or the other. He is also likely to weep that the journalist expects gratification for every story or picture he sends for publication. Chances are that he will write off the journalist as one sold to ‘brown envelope’.

    But, the executive is unlikely to talk about the fact that he cherishes killing stories. It will be shocking if he confesses to liking to dictate the headline or the pages his stories should be published.

    The heaven will fall if he pleads guilty to complaining anytime a balanced story is published because he likes it always slanted in his organisation’s favour. Truth is: The journalist is wrong so is the corporate affairs executive. Neither has done anything illegal. But ethics is in bondage here. Who will free it?

    You may wonder why I am travelling this route today. It is because I get confused when people paint journalists as bribe-takers, blackmailers and all sorts. I will be the first to confess that there are bad eggs among us. Plenty of them. And these rotten eggs have made me think of switching profession, though some may see it as 20 years late. What if I become a banker? It occurs to me that bankers do not have a better image, too. They are accused of round-tripping, over-charging customers and so on. Okay, maybe I should go abroad, do a degree in Law for three or fewer years and return home to attend the law school preparatory to starting a career in law. But, I realise that I will also be worried when people complain that lawyers are liars. I will be disturbed when people accuse them of defending thieves, treasury looters and fraudsters. So, law practice is cancelled from the list.

    With my degree, joining the police force may not be a bad idea and I will be starting from the middle. I did not have to think about this for long before it occurs to me that I will die of worries if I pitch my tent with the police. The cases against the police are weightier than the media. I certainly will feel bad if people accuse me of collecting N20 bribe. After all, if one wants to eat a frog, he should eat the one with egg! I also will not feel cool if I am described as a thief, and sleep will elude me anytime I pass through what we call police barracks in Nigeria.

    Medicine could have been another option but I am several decades behind. Where do I start? I will have to write the Senior Secondary School Examination and pass Physics and one or two other sciences, which I could not pass at the Ansar-Ud-Deen Grammar School, Isaga-Orile, in 1996. The odds are against me, but even if I succeed, there are things to worry about. Doctors are not saints. I will feel bad if patients complain that most of us who work as consultants in government-owned hospitals have more time for our private practice than the government’s work. I will also not be happy if I am unable to get full employment because gone are the days when jobs were always waiting for doctors. Now we have doctors who just manage what they can get.

    What else is left? Let me try politics jare. It is time to return to Epe and build my political career, but wait a minute, isn’t quitting journalism for politics like jumping from the frying pan to fire? After all, I am in search of a profession no one will say any bad thing about. Will I not die when people describe me as a killer? Will I be able to sleep if I am accused of doctoring my age to be eligible for a position? What will become of me when bile and blood are directed at me? I better forget about this option.

    And then I remember I have a talent. I am a creative writer and I have a novel described as “a work of deceptive simplicity” by Man Booker-shortlisted author of The Fishermen, Chigozie Obioma, to show for it. But how many writers in Nigeria feed off their literary works? None that I know of. Before you tell me that Obioma and Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie earn enough from their talent, remember that their case is different. Adichie shuttles between Nigeria and the United States. Obioma lives in the United States. I live in Nigeria where publishing is still unable to make anyone live beyond the poverty ring.

    A very good friend and big brother of mine, who is an established writer in Nigeria, has two books published by what many consider the country’s biggest new generation publishing firm. Last year, one of his books sold 3,000 copies. He was paid a royalty of a whopping N160,000. Please add, in one year! Tell me if this can pay his children’s school fees. I also remember the tale a novelist and professor told of how after many years he went to the local office of an international publishing firm that printed and reprinted his debut novel for years, and he was rewarded with N80,000 for writing a great work that merited many a reprint. That is all he has ever got from this amazing book.

    Maybe the only option left is for me to join the Lord’s vineyard. Men of God are respected. Their opinions count and people daily throng their homes and churches to seek counsel. So, finally here is a great alternative. But I have to wait to be called or can I call myself as many have done? Or operate under the anointing of a senior man of God? But wait a minute, men of the cloth are also not free from allegations. No thanks to the cheats masquerading as God’s representatives on earth. They make people pay to receive the anointing; they make people cough out hard-earned cash for the magic they call a miracle, and they use juju to hoodwink people. Oga o, what will I do now? I am at my wit’s end!

    My final take: There is no profession for saints. And like it is pointed out in In The Name of Our Father, ‘angels live in heaven; the earth is no home to them’. What we should all do is to give our best in whatever we do. If you are in government, govern well. If you are a reporter, report well without fear or favour.

  • My dear S8

    It is with a heavy heart I write you today. If on Sunday when we departed Lagos together, anyone had told me we would not return together, I would have labelled the person a liar — an agent of Prophet T.C. Jeremiah of the In the Name of Our Father fame. You really disappoint me seriously, and my heart still aches, days after! How could you have allowed anyone to separate us? Just how?

    For the two years or so that we were together, I gave you my best. I did my best possible for your beauty to remain unblemished. For a long time, I did not even remove the factory-fitted nylon at your backside. I did all these to protect you and make you feel loved. So many people, especially girls in my office (whose names I will not mention) wanted you. Day in, day out, they longed for you. Even when I told them that even if we were to go our separate ways, Pempo would willingly have you, they did not relent. One of them even told me you were too big for Pempo.

    I still asked myself how you slipped away from me without me knowing. Had I offended you that you chose to disgrace me abroad? I remember clearly that you were with me at the Dubai International Airport, where I charged your battery a bit before I went to look for a comfortable chair to sleep on. I continued charging you in the plane, which took us to Guangzhou.

    I also remember putting on your power button when we landed at Guangzhou. A message came in from my big egbon, Bash, asking me to send my Whatsapp number because he wanted to send me a story for use in The Nation. He had discussed this with me some days back and I assumed I would be able to handle it from China. I did not reply the message and was planning to use the airport’s wireless to send a Whatsapp message to Bash. Unknown to me that was the last I would see of you.

    You were in my hand as we waited for the aircraft’s door to be flung open for passengers to come down. You were with me as a group of Chinese women dashed for their loads even when the plane was still taxing. You were with me when a male Emirate air host rushed to get them to sit down. You were with me as the women made a hell of noise. Soon, the door was opened and we all rushed out. I thought you were still with me. We made our way to the Immigration point. I assumed you were still with me.

    As we got to the automated finger print section, I decided to go and ease myself in the adjacent washroom. It was when I came back that I realised that what I was holding was my passport and not you. I also realised that you were nowhere in my pockets. I searched my hand luggage and you were nowhere to be found. I raised alarm. My colleagues asked me to check my bag. I told them you were not there. One of us called the number with his phone and a female voice picked it up. She could not speak English. And because we were in China, we assumed she must be speaking Mandarin. We got our host, Robin Liu, to speak with her, but Robin could make no sense out of what she was saying. After trying again and again, Robin declared that the person was speaking nonsense. Of course, anything other than English and Mandarin would sound like nonsense to Robin.

    By this time, my mood had changed. I had planned so many things around you. With you I had planned to keep abreast of developments in Nigeria. I had planned to use WhatsApp; I had planned to use Instagram; and I had planned to use Facebook. To be eligible to receive my calls for free, I had loaded my MTN line with no less than N10,000 airtime. With this I expected to receive my important calls from Nigeria free. I had enjoyed this service in the United Kingdom and United States and was looking forward to being home abroad in Shenzhen, the technological hub of China — if you like, call it China’s Silicon Valley.

    After Robin’s initial failures, we decided to conclude Immigration procedures, pick our luggage and look for an Information Desk to see if anyone reported seeing a phone. We also wanted to see if we could see an Emirates Airline office to make enquiries. At the Information Desk, we could not be helped as no one had reported seeing a phone. We decided to call the number again and here we discovered that the ‘nonsense’ Robin was complaining about was actually Arabic. Thanks to Bala Abdulkadir of Business Day, who then felt we should have asked the airline’s crew when they passed through us. By now, it was late. It was past 11pm Chinese time. We dropped Robin’s number with the Information Desk and expected good news the following day. We headed for Shenzhen, which was not less than two hours away by bus.

    Throughout the journey I was not myself. I thought of the WhatsApp messages I would have missed. I thought of phone calls. I thought of so many things I had built around you, including keeping in touch with family and friends. I wanted to be home abroad and I expected you to make that happen.

    By the following day, I lost the hope of ever finding you. We got someone who could speak Arabic to talk to the person holding you after obviously finding you on the plane’s seat where I ignorantly left you, but your battery was probably gone and no communication could take place.

    To make matters worse I could not access my mail because you were the password. The two lines on you were the backup phone numbers and my Gmail was also another backup, which I could not access because Google and Facebook do not work in China. When I eventually accessed the mail, over 100 messages were waiting for me. Some important; many not!

    My final take: How did we become so much attached to gadgets, especially phones? Our fathers and fathers’ fathers lived their lives without Smart phones and life was not difficult for them. Their kids went to schools in far way lands, even abroad, and there was no phone to crosscheck if they got there in one piece and life did not end. In those days, they had to wait for letters or telegrams. Now, we feel like fishes outside the water without our phones. You need to see the way I was moody almost through the trip to appreciate what I am talking about. For goodness sakes, nothing happened to Pempo or Toluwanimi!

    Lest I forget Robin later placated me with a Huawei phone. Can it really replace you, my darling Samsung S8? Only time will tell.

  • 20 years of demallcrazy

    Funmilola Ogunseye is studying Psychology at the University of Lagos. She runs a literary blog called Dascience. Through this blog, Ogunseye reviews books she has read. Like literature police, she awards marks to books based on her opinions of them. In her review of my book, In the Name of Our Father, she said she was sad that most of the challenges or problems the country faced under the military were still with us.

    A month and four days from today, it will be 20 years since the military returned to the barracks and became subservient to civil authorities. But unfortunately, many things have largely remained the same or even become worse. For example, the police are still the way they used to be: innocent people are paraded for crimes they know nothing about; many murder cases are unresolved; senior police officers dance to politicians and the rich’s tunes, and justice remains a victim.

    Politicians are still the same: the people are the least important; no permanent friends but interests; patronage still has edge over service; and if the devil can guarantee electoral success, politicians are ready to have a deal. We are yet to start crawling, not to talk of walking, and far away from running.

    Our politicians are just a little better than the military. In a lot of sense, many of the players on the political scene are yet to be cured of the military hang-over. A sizeable number of the key players even have a garrison mentality. Ours is a democracy without democrats. Selfish interests are masqueraded as national interests. The good of one is sold as the good of all. Politicians abandon one party to join another and defend it as if it were based on sound principles. The defections and the reasons behind them are interesting, but if you scratch beyond the surface, you will see deceit and the love of self. I take it with a pinch of the salt when I hear a politician talk about building a solid foundation for the entrenchment of democracy. These funny chaps still talk about sacrificing their interests for our nation. They really get ridiculous when they speak about commitment, transparency and accountability.

    There is this other case which makes me further believe that we want democracy, but are not ready to be Democrats: My heart broke when a group of new breed politicians behaved like the people they said they wanted to replace during the last general elections. In the run-up to the polls, Motivational Speaker Fela Durotoye was chosen to represent the new breed through a shadow election, but the ink with which his name was written was yet to dry when the others in contention rubbished the exercise that produced him. It is more painful given the fact that these were people with little or no chance of winning the presidential election.

    During the last party primaries, some All Progressives Congress (APC) governors complained about direct primaries, which were meant to give party members a choice in picking candidates. Their Excellencies instead wanted consensus or indirect primaries. They did not break any law because their party’s constitution allows it. But what better test of popularity is there than direct primaries? But, their Excellencies were afraid that their popularity among party men and women was not enough to guarantee their lackeys picking the prized tickets.

    Our education system, which suffered under the military, is still suffering. Universities are no longer great. Students are no longer tutored and mentored by star local and foreign lecturers. Hostels are now bedbug-invested. Our primary, secondary and tertiary health institutions are no longer world class.

    The University College Hospital (UCH) was first among equals globally; its facilities were top notch and its members of staff could raise their heads high anywhere in the world. Twenty years of democracy has not been able to reverse the brain drain, which has turned UCH and others to shadows of their old selves.

    Minister of Labour and Productivity Chris Ngige a few days back even said there was nothing to be sad about brain drain. Haba! The brain drain hit the health sector in the ‘80s and has not abated. The work ethic and attitude of the remaining doctors to patients’ care are nothing near the top class they used to be. We thought democracy would bring back the good old days. Aside from brain drain, infrastructure has also decayed. Power supply, lack of equipment, and others have not been helped by 20 years of democracy.

    As I write, many doctors are on their way to Canada, the United States, the United Kingdom and Australia because of the poor state of medical practice in the country. Even those who are not leaving are not committed. Many a doctor in government-owned hospitals run private clinics and dedicate attention to their private practice than their primary employer.

    Under democracy, our people come up with all sorts of excuses to get asylum abroad. Boko Haram has provided a good excuse for many. They now have comfortable homes in Europe and America. Democracy’s attempt to fix the electricity challenge has been a major flop. Since licences were given to Ikeja Electric, Benin Electricity Distribution Company (BEDC) and nine others, they have shown that they lack what is needed to make a success of the sector. It has been garbage in, garbage out. Consumers regularly express their displeasure through blockades of electricity distribution companies’ offices over poor service delivery occasioned by erratic billing and epileptic power supply. Consumers, consumer advocacy groups, regulators and legislators have shouted themselves hoarse.

    The courts are having hectic schedules with cases filed by short-changed consumers. For me, the investors rushed into the deal thinking it would be all rosy like the situation when GSM licences were issued. BEDC is having a serious challenge with the Edo State government. Governor Godwin Obaseki even walked out of a meeting with the company’s management team for its abysmal performance. Edo is literally in darkness. So piqued is the Oba of Benin that he pleaded with President Muhammadu Buhari some days back to ensure BEDC’s licence is not renewed. I suspect that if something is not done soon, the Benin monarch will invoke his spiritual powers to force the non-performer out of town.

    According to a Nigerian Electricity Regulatory Commission (NERC) report, the 11 DisCos received 128,791 complaints from consumers in the third quarter of last year. 153,227 complaints were received in the second quarter. The report published on NERC’s website also shows that BEDC had the highest number of complaints. I was not surprised that Ikeja DisCo was number two. The complaints, according to the report, is on service interruption, poor voltage, load shedding, metering, estimated billing, disconnection and delayed connection.

    It is not surprising that metering and billing issues dominated the complaints. Metering and billing accounted for 53 per cent of the complaints. 68,749 complaints in the third quarter of last year were on metering and billing. 103,636 billing and metering complaints were recorded in the second quarter. This means that an average of about 747 customers complained about metering and billing per day in the third quarter of 2018. The NERC received 1,959 complaints from customers who were unsatisfied with DisCos’ decisions in the last quarter of last year.

    My final take: The gains of democracy in the last 20 years have not met our expectations. We have practised this great system in a peculiar way, which simply looks to me like dem all are crazy. We need to turn a new leaf. We must!

  • Letter to Dapo Abiodun

    Sir, let me start by congratulating you for a battle well-fought. If man were God, Adekunle Akinlade would have been declared Ogun State governor-elect. It is for this reason that the interest of the people of Ogun State should be your primary focus when you are sworn-in on May 29, which incidentally also marks your 59th birthday.

    Let me make it clear here sir that my intent in writing you is not to rubbish the records of outgoing Governor Ibikunle Amosun. Like all mortals, he has his faults, which some people believe are capable of eclipsing his achievements. I leave that for time to decide. I was excited some days back when your spokesman, Remmy Hazzan, released a statement on your 23-man economic transition committee. According to the statement: “Ogun State is blessed with an abundance of human resources in all fields of endeavour and this is reflected in the array of distinguished sons and daughters who have volunteered their skills, rich and diverse experience, and vast network, to work on this important assignment. “Furthermore, our commitment to provide an inclusive Government is expressed in the composition of the committee.”

    Looking through the membership of the committee chaired by Mr Tunde Lemo, a former deputy governor of the Central Bank of Nigeria (CBN), I felt you mean business. I also like the fact that you looked beyond party affiliation by including Dr Reuben Abati, who was Peoples Democratic Party (PDP) governorship running mate, and Mr Gboyega Isiaka, who was a rival in the poll. This shows that you know that for Ogun State to develop, all hands must be on deck.

    At the risk of telling you things you know sir, permit me to recap the place of Ogun State in Nigeria’s history. Ogun State has produced two Heads of State. Chief Olusegun Obasanjo, aside from his time as military Head of State, also led us as a civilian president for eight years. No one in the country’s history has this kind of record. Ogun also produced a Head of State in Chief Ernest Shonekan. Ogun was home to the late Chief Obafemi Awolowo. Great minds such as Prof. Wole Soyinka, Chief Olusegun Osoba and many more are sons of Ogun State. I dare say Ogun is a state whose history other states, including my Lagos, cannot boast of.

    Up till now, Ogun State anthem makes me nostalgic. I sang it for six years as a student of the Ansar-Ud-Deen Grammar School, Isaga-Orile, near Abeokuta, and can still recite it word for word. The lines are powerful and the message in it I indulge you to imbibe.

    Sir, I have said all this for you to know that you are not going to govern just another state. You are going to govern Ogun, the home of Olumo Rock, the home of men of no mean stature, the home of great teachers and above all, the land of knowledge. This great state, which is number three in terms of Internally Generated Revenue (IGR), deserves to be better than what it is. I sincerely believe that the state has not fully taken advantage of its closeness to Lagos. Agreed that the Ibikunle Amosun administration was able to work on its proximity to Lagos to raise the IGR significantly, the border towns, such as Alagbole, Agbara, Lusada, Mowe, Ibafo and Akute, are treated as though they are in Lagos State. Yet, residents pay their taxes to Ogun.

    I am always sad each time I visit friends in Akute and its axis. The Amosun administration went to this axis with bulldozers to pull down houses and started a massive bridge that, if completed, would have opened up the axis to greatness. In the beginning, the pace of work was frenetic. By the time people started salivating of the coming goodness, works technically ceased and even when it was later resumed and more houses pulled down, the pace was never the same again. And driving in the axis became a pain. It got so bad that residents had to forcefully inaugurate the bridge to ease their pain.

    Inner roads in Lusada, Mowe, Akute, Lambe and many of the border towns are in a terrible state. Other amenities, such as pipe-borne water, are inexistent. Sir, I am emphasising developments in the border towns because I believe they have a major role to play in Ogun State’s future. Abeokuta is important; Ijebu-Ode is germane, but there are immediate gains to get from fixing the towns close to Lagos.

    Let me also state here sir that you should avoid one major mistake when you resume on May 29 – let the past be in its rightful position. Let the people know what you have for them and not bore them with how your predecessor’s actions are making you unable to better their lives. The people know that hospitals are not in their best; they know that many schools are in states of disrepair; they know that many roads are terrible, and they know that water supply has not received the attention it deserves. With your experience in the business world and in politics, what the people expect is for you to tell them how you will improve the bad situation. Workers need to know they will get their allowances and salaries; teachers need to know they will have opportunities for retraining, and farmers need to know that the government can support them to commercialise their farms.

    I will also like to point out the need for your administration to make the best of the fact that Ogun is home to many higher institutions. Some even say no state has more higher institutions than Ogun. Sir, it should be about quality and not quantity. If you carry your due diligence and discover that any of these government-owned institutions cannot meet up with the quality standard expected, please shut it down or find a way to get it up to the required standard.

    Before I let you have your peace, sycophants are already plotting how to make you feel you are the best man in the whole wide world. Liars. That is what they are. Do not take them seriously. They are out to ruin you. The Yoruba will say: “eniyan laso mi”. You need to surround yourself with quality people, people who can look at you in the face and tell you the truth. This is how to succeed. Anything short of this is an invitation to failure.

    For now, say me well to your wonderful mother, Mrs. Victoria Abiodun. I can’t stop seeing that picture of her praying for you in my mind’s eyes. Say me well to your kids and wife, too. But above all, Ogun deserves much more than what is currently on offer and taking the towns bordering Lagos more serious is a good starting point.

     

  • One year after

    It was a year yesterday since my debut novel In the Name of Our Father was published. This ‘novelist’ journey is largely tied like a Siamese twin to my journalism career, which kicked off some twenty years ago with The Source magazine published by Comfort Obi and Maik Nwosu, the author of Invisible Chapter, Alpha Song and A Gecko’s Farewell.

    While working with The Source, the magazine had a section called Night Diary. It was meant for reporters to share their night experiences. Occasionally, outsiders were allowed to contribute. One of such outside contributions was about a pastor who joined the occult to acquire powers to perform miracles and attract people to his church. When I read the piece, I felt I could do a novel out of it. This was in 2002. Nwosu, my editor then, had published Invisible Chapter and Alpha Song, which made a large impression on me.

    At a point, I also felt that if the story was based alone on the pastor, it would be too ordinary. I decided to do a story-within-a-story. I was clear about what I wanted to do. So, I decided to do a prologue to introduce the narrator of the story-within-the-story before going into the main story.

    It occurred to me early that people could get confused by the shift from the prologue to the main story, but I took care of it by making it clear in the last line of the prologue that what would follow was reading from a book. Any reader who glosses over the prologue or misses this last line may be confused. But I am glad most people have been able to understand what I set out to do. I also made sure the link between the story-within-the-story and the narrator’s challenges were well established at the end of the book and this, according to readers, was a rude shock they did not see coming.

    As an apostle of art for relevance, almost every single work of art I have done, be it poetry or prose, has had a critical message for the society. This has been with me right from my days at the Nigerian Institute of Journalism, where some of my poems were featured in a collection called ‘Activist Poets’. This principle was on my mind when the principal script of In the name of Our Father was written while I was 24.

    One question that has kept cropping up since the book was released is whether or not I was conscious of the backlog it could have. The truth is: I never bothered about whether or not anyone would feel bad about what I was writing. I felt only the guilty should be afraid.

    I have also been asked what research went into conceptualising my major characters. For Prophet T.C. Jeremiah, I had to extra-study the Bible so as to get the necessary scriptures to use. I also read interviews and stories on cases of false prophets. I also read tons of reports and interviews about victims of incarceration during the last military dictatorship. The prison break in the book was so real that Hon. Wale Oshun, who had witnessed one while in prison, sent me a mail asking if I experienced it. Of course, I did not. It was pure research. Almost all the characters who were jailed in the book have real-life personalities they are modelled after. This was deliberate because I want the book, in a way, to be a blend of fact and fiction, which is known in some quarters as ‘faction’.

    For Justus Omoeko, who I modelled after Mr Kunle Ajibade, one of the founders of The News magazine, I also read about his travails and played on them. Of course, the bulk of the things that happened to the character in the book have nothing to do with Mr Ajibade’s life. They were just purely imagination. My book editor, Toni Kan, later helped to properly shape some of the characters and situate the period the book was set, which led to rewriting parts and taking out some four thousand words.

    I also drew inspiration from an interview I did with a man who claimed to have co-founded a church with a popular man of the cloth. He told me all kinds of stories about how wealthy men were coming to consult the prophet, day and night, for one favour or the other, including how to have more money. Politicians, according to him, paid nocturnal visits.

    This book was never intended to be innocent. So, when a critic said part of it was not tastefully done, I had no apology because that aspect was one of the reasons for the book in the first place. It was meant to draw attention to major socio-political issues, which in this case are religious deceit and the evil of military dictatorship. I resorted to the story-within-the-story format so that I can treat both issues together. I created a journalist, who wrote a book about a false prophet with links to the dictator in power. The journalist eventually got into trouble as a result of the novella he wrote on the false prophet titled ‘Angels Live in Heaven’.  He was jailed after being implicated in a coup and this allowed me to reveal the ills of military incursion into our polity.

    What have been the reactions of readers? Largely good. But I have seen two people who feel it was not properly thought through. One feels it is “structurally defective” and the other feels it was “prematurely published”.  So, I am enjoying the thrills of the army of admirers and enduring the knocks of the minority.

    In this second year of the book, my publishers and I are exploring new heights. Maybe the movie talks will also be solidified. Fingers crossed!

    My final take: We all know there are many false prophets out there misleading the people in the name of the Father in heaven. We should stop subletting our lives to ‘men of God’. God gave us brains to use, but many are not using theirs. Every important decision in their lives is taken by men of God, real and fake.

    …This piece is an adaptation of my interview with Daily Trust.

  • Notes to myself

    Today I just want to talk to myself. But if my words strike a chord in you, do not take offence. What I expect you should do is to fix things and, maybe, we will have a better Nigeria.

    Until I met Yinka through Nze Sylva Ifedigbo’s debut novel, My Mind Is No Longer Here, I never gave serious thought to the fact that Nigerians are in their best mood when at the departure of the Murtala Mohammed International Airport. There is a strong link between this statement and this quote from the novel: “When your home cannot offer you a bed to sleep peacefully on, a neighbour’s home becomes appealing.”

    At the airport’s departure, you see lovers, especially the ladies, shedding tears at the departure of their loved ones. They cry because they will miss their lovers, not because their men are leaving the country. In fact, they are glad they are escaping what the narrator in Chigozie Obioma’s An Orchestra of Minorities describes as “the land of lack, of man-pass-man, the land in which a man’s greatest enemies are members of his household; a land of kidnappers, of ritual killers, of policemen who bully those they encounter on the road and shoot those who don’t bribe them, of leaders who treat those they lead with contempt and rob them of their commonwealth, of frequent riots and crisis, of long strikes, of petrol shortages, of joblessness, of clogged gutters, of potholed roads…and of constant power outages”.

    Our dear nation has not always been like this. There was a time when naira was more than a dollar. Time also was when naira was almost equal to pounds. We must never forgive the apostles of the Structural Adjustment Programme (SAP), which saw to the devaluation of our currency. The Structural Adjustment Programme of the Ibrahim Babangida regime made things difficult for a lot of people. The middle class practically went into extinction. Inflation skyrocketed. The government removed subsidies on petroleum products and fertiliser, and deregulated the interest rate. Personal insecurity increased and personal satisfaction nosedived. For many, it was the darkest period witnessed economically.

    Time was when going to the United Kingdom or any of the Commonwealth countries was as easy as travelling from Lagos to Ibadan. Time was when public schools were the in-thing, and time was when jobs were waiting for graduates immediately after school. Universities were great. Students were tutored and mentored by star local and foreign lecturers. Hostels were not bedbug-invested. Students had access to balanced diets. Our primary, secondary and tertiary health institutions were world class. The University College Hospital (UCH) was first among equals globally; its facilities were top notch and its members of staff could raise their heads high anywhere in the world. No thanks to brain drain, UCH and others are now shadows of their old selves. Ex-UCH Chief Medical Officer Prof. Emitope Alonge identified the brain drain that hit the health sector in the ‘80s as being responsible for the declining standard in the hospital. Alonge said between 1980 and 1983, the work ethic and attitude to patients’ care were top class. Brain drain began to take its tolls. Infrastructure decayed. There was poor power supply, lack of equipment, and sadly operating gowns were sterilised outside the hospital.

    Many doctors are on their way to Canada, the United States, the United Kingdom and Australia. Some are even heading to Australia because of the poor state of medical practice in the country. Even those who are not leaving are not committed. Many a doctor in government-owned hospitals run private clinics and dedicates attention to their private practice than their primary employer. Our people come up with all sorts of excuse to get asylum abroad.

    Thank God for Boko Haram, many now have new and comfortable homes in Europe and America. We also have overnight gay people, all because of the quest to have homes outside of the hell that their true home has become. The other day, I saw an advert in a newspaper in which a Nigerian, obviously seeking asylum abroad, made a ridiculous claim about his family. There was also another advert in which a guy claimed his uncle wanted to kill him over inheritance. All he wanted was asylum and he caused the advert to be done so he could use as evidence to back his quest for a safe haven.

    Thinking of all these remind me of Pastor Sam Adeyemi. In one of his incisive presentations, Pastor Adeyemi pointed out that while those in government had their fair share of blame for the wrong things in the country, the ordinary folks were also not immune from blames. Or how do you react to a situation where a cart pusher finishes the water in a bottle and discards the bottle on a major road? What about a public school head teacher who collects illegal levies from pupils? What about a journalist who has turned to a blackmailer? What about the lecturer who sees in his influence the excuse to take female students to bed? What about the managing director who keeps asking low-rung female employees out for sex? Shall we blame the government for a company where there are no clear-cut plans for staff’s welfare?

    Is the government to blame for media houses which take pride in reporting government failures yet owe salaries, fail to remit pension and tactically encourage corruption? Tell me, who should be blamed for electricity distribution companies’ failure to give service yet bill consumers arbitrarily? Many companies have folded up because of the epileptic power supply in the country. Running factories on diesel-powered generators for 24 hours is not sustainable.

    I am looking for who to blame for pastors who dupe their congregation because they are sure that God is merciful and will not immediately strike them down like the god of thunder. Please show me who to blame for politicians who hide their children abroad and buy guns for other people’s children so that they can get power and use it to steal our commonwealth.

    My final take: The government has its faults, plenty of them; but we are not blameless too. You and I have our faults too. We should play our parts and then look for ways to ensure rogues do not get to the corridor of power, not to talk of being in power.